"I am not above taking notice of anything, I hope." "No, of course not. You are a true philosopher. There is no dilettantism about you. That is what I like in you," she added frankly. "Come and sit down here between Miss King and me, and talk to us. I want to know how the emigration business is getting on." He sat down between the two ladies, Elizabeth drawing back her white skirts. "I have been doing no business, emigration or other," he said; "I have been spending my time in pleasure." "Is it possible? Well, I am glad to hear it. I should very much like to know what stands for pleasure with you, only it would be too rude a question." "I have been in the country," he said, smiling. "H--m--that's not saying much. You don't mean to tell me, I see. Talking of the country--look at Elizabeth's bouquet. Did you think we could raise lilies of the valley like those?" He bent his head slightly to smell them. "I heard that they did grow hereabouts," he said; and his eyes and Elizabeth's met for a moment over the fragrant flowers that she held between them, while Mrs. Duff-Scott detailed the negligent circumstances of their presentation, which left it a matter of doubt where they came from and for whom they were intended. "I want to find Mr. Smith," said she; "I fancy he can give us information." "I don't think so," said Mr. Yelverton; "he was showing me a lily of the valley in his button-hole just now as a great rarity in these parts." Then it flashed across Mrs. Duff-Scott that Paul Brion might have been the donor, and she said no more. For some time the trio sat upon the sofa, and the matron and the philanthropist discussed political economy in its modern developments. They talked about emigration; they talked about protection--and wherein a promising, but inexperienced, young country was doing its best to retard the wheels of progress--as if they were at a committee meeting rather than disporting themselves at a ball. The major found partners for the younger girls, but he left Elizabeth to her devices; at least he did so for a long time--until it seemed to him that she was being neglected by her companions. Then he started across the room to rescue her from her obscurity. At the moment that he came in sight, Mr. Yelverton turned to her. "What about dancing, Miss King?" he said, quickly. "May I be allowed to do my best?" "I cannot dance," said Elizabeth. "I began too late--I can't take to it, somehow." "My dear," said Mrs. Duff-Scott, "that is nonsense. All you want is practice. And I am not going to allow you to become a wall-flower." She turned her head to greet some newly-arrived friends, and Mr. Yelverton rose and offered his arm to Elizabeth.